Crossroads
by Schwarzesloch
Summary: His arms are heavy, like his heart, and he wants to, but not enough, because he doesn't ever reach out. [ Levi x Eren sort of unrequited ]


**A/N:** This might be a little dumb. My first dabbling in Ereri so please bear with me. English is not my native language so if you see any mistakes tell me and I'll correct them. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. **c:**

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Eren is near him yet again. He's old enough to know better, but still young enough to send it all to hell and take a risk. Levi, on the other hand, has got it all under control, with bandages wrapped tightly around his heart. Still, he likes to think that he knows what he's doing. What kind of mess he's getting himself into.

He and Eren waltz in some sort of clumsy dance. Their steps are awkward, and sometimes they step on each other's toes; even so, the emerald-eyed boy comes back after lunch, comes under one of those 'big ass trees' and lays by his side, their bodies barely touching, skin so cold and careful. A distance that, although not safe, feels incredibly natural to both of them, and it's comfortable for a while. The tree trunk is uncomfortable though and Levi knows that, but Eren never has, never seemed to have a problem.

Levi wonders if it's too arrogant of him to assume that there's something else leading the boy to him in these lonely hours, in the dead moments of the military life they take. Eren seems deep in thought, if he even thinks at all, and that's a big 'if', and he seems not to pay attention to the closeness he and the corporal share.

The corporal doesn't treat anyone else like that. Not even Gunther, who's been in the Scouting Legion for a longer time, or Petra, who's just arrived but already gets along with everybody, and always tries to please the corporal. Levi thanks her. In a place tarnished by horror and gore, the soft presence of the redheaded girl cures him of a disease he didn't knew he was suffering from.

After lunch there's practice. Practice is harsh, like all practice is: this is the army, not fucking kindergarten. They're only here because they chose to. Levi knows that's not quite true, but even so, it's not a complete lie either. There are many soldiers who are washed over with regret right on their first mission, some even on the first day. There are the ones that don't ever come back from their first expedition outside the walls. Levi doesn't know how to feel about that; there's an emptiness inside him every time he thinks of all the men and women who gave their lives for something uncertain, something they can only hope is better, and, when he believes himself to be a good man, Levi likes to think that it's for their sake that he keeps fighting.

In regard to the boy, he's not so sure. Levi thinks Eren's wrapped up in something grander than his own existence and that, at his age, Eren might not realize it yet. Levi doesn't treat him like a child, quite the contrary, and Eren knows it and appreciates it, because he keeps coming back to chat him up after the inedible lunch that Hanji had burned once again, and the boy approaches him when the corporal is alone, contemplative expression on his calm face, perched on top of his favorite castle wall.

Maybe Eren knows about that little detail, and maybe that's why he shows up in the place from time to time. It's possible he's giving the boy too much credit for his actions.

The truth is, it would be much easier to treat him just like a boy, a normal boy in his fifteen year, who like so many others had enrolled in the army. But Eren, even if he didn't want to, would always be different. Levi always noticed him. In the first day he lay eyes on him, there was something in the brat's determined tone that set him apart, that made the corporal lift his annoyed gaze up to him, boring into his eyes like harsh sunlight. Eren had shut up, visibly disturbed by the corporal's glare. Despite that, he resumed his speech about how he was set to kill all the titans left and that he was, and would always be, a trusted ally to humanity, even if it cost him his life. Those times, Levi thinks maybe he's not as dumb as he appears to be.

Maybe he knows more than he lets on, and Levi feels like he's stepping on uncertain territory.

But that's the way things are with Eren. Everything is unexpected, half anxious, rushed and flamable. Levi admits he likes it, the determination that shines in his eyes when he speaks about his goal, his dream, and the way he talks so reverently about Mikasa and Armin, with the certainty that he can't lose them. Levi knows that. If Eren loses the little stability he's still got, he doesn't know what he'll do. A depressed teenage boy is bad, but a depressed teenage titan-boy is a thousand times worse.

Levi is a man of few words, and what he says is not much and many times futile, although he doesn't like to admit it. Out of his mouth come shit jokes – literally -, and he's not sure how that can help Eren, how the boy can feel good around someone like him, but the truth is, when Levi starts doubting, Eren always comes back to the shadow of the tree, retrieves to his side during the breaks in practice, subtle like a shadow growing in the twilight. For scarce moments, all evil seems erased from the world.

Everything feels right when Jaeger approaches him, in uncertain and frightened steps, his green eyes flashing and his mouth set in a line, like he's afraid to blurt out something wrong. Eren may have lots of flaws, that's a given, he can be the scum of humankind, a traitor, a pariah, but… Through the captain's rose-tinted eyes, he can do no wrong.

It's impossible, not conceivable. Eren is a flickering flame, a warm light that calls him on. The boy's humanity, although divided, makes him purer than anyone else, draws Levi in the way the light attracts a moth.

Just as Eren might have some reason to spend so much time with him – it's not actually much time, just enough to make him wonder –, maybe Levi has his own reason to welcome the titan-boy's presence everyday under the same tree. He never hated him, never despised him. And hard – oh, how hard it was to prove him wrong. But it was in times like those where Levi thought that maybe Eren knew more than he let on.

He's being proven time and time again that the boy's not just a boy, and maybe he should start to wrap his head around the idea. Because Eren noticed, even if unconsciously, the subtleties in his expression of warm feelings which comes natural to most but not to him, he noticed the rare gestures that might imply Levi actually cares. In a way Levi doesn't understand, he infiltrates under the defenses he didn't know himself to possess, innocent, like a curious child, and searches through him silently and carefully, seeming so unlike himself - not rash, just tender and calm, like lukewarm water. Levi accepts without protest that which is lost in the air between them. When Eren is close by, he feels purified of all the times he has ever suspected the boy, like all past crimes and deeds have been erased from him.

But there are too many unspoken agreements. It's not safe to talk, mostly, and Levi thought he could deal with that, but he can't. Everything is confusing, violent and muddy waters. He regrets the way he feels, in a way. It's not that he wants to, but thoughts of the boy creep up on him when he least expects it, and he has no idea what to do with them. Because wherever he turns to there's a dead end waiting to be met, and so not turning anywhere becomes the safest choice.

The feeling that life and mistakes and the grief are made ok when he's with Eren doesn't seem to be certainty enough. Maybe he should stop thinking and talk and just do something. His arms are heavy, like his heart, and he wants to, but not enough, because he doesn't ever reach out. Levi wouldn't allow himself that pleasure; he hasn't earned it, maybe he won't in this lifetime.

They can be together – can they?, but they'll die gruesome deaths some day, and he's not sure he wants to know it's Eren when he sees a mess of severed limbs and flesh and bloody bone. He doesn't want to look at that and know it's him – Eren, he's the one – no, Levi's not ready to put himself through that yet. When you die it's okay, but whoever stays behind carries you on their shoulders.

So he strays away. Eren keeps coming back and he doesn't discourage him. It's just that, as far as feelings go, Levi doesn't have much courage regarding his own; burying them deep inside his chest seems like the best option, the one that hurts less, even if it still feels like he's got a blunt dagger ripping through his chest whenever he's in the boy's presence. But he decides – for now, for the future, for him and for Eren –, this is the best. He'll shut this up. And he commits to his decision, but this is, by far, the hardest order he's carried out.

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(02/03/2015)


End file.
